Last week Peter was working late. It was quickly approaching dinner time so I called to see how much longer he would be. Lots longer. In a stroke of brilliance, Peter suggested I take Morgan on a date.

Morgan, my 10-year old son, was the only child at home that night. His sister was at camp and two step-siblings were at their mom’s house across town. Date night sounded like a great idea so off we went to La Caretta, our family favorite.

In less than 48 hours, we would be dropping off Morgan and his sister to spend six weeks in Indiana with their dad. Date night timing couldn’t be better. As we enjoyed each other’s company, these are a few of the lessons I tried to impart to Morgan:

1. Focus on the other person. The best way to get to know others is to focus on them, rather than dominating the conversation.
2. Ask questions. Whether you’re on a date or in a business setting, it’s always a good idea to ask questions that allow people to talk about what’s important to them. I asked Morgan about his day camp experience and about his newest toy fad.
3. Remember names. While we were at the restaurant, I called our servers by name. (Did I mention it’s our family favorite?) We saw some friends and I reminded Morgan of their names. When we stopped by their table on the way out, he could call them by name.
4. Always pay. Call me old fashion, but I still think the man should pay for dates. (It’s nice for a lady to offer to pay and I suppose if she initiates the date, she should offer/be prepared to pay. Maybe I’ll revisit this conversation in August when he returns.)
5. Trust Jesus; He’s the real deal. The mere fact that Morgan would be gone for six weeks reminded me that date night could be a good time to reinforce key values.

After we left the restaurant, we went to Givens Books and I purchased The Dangerous Book for Boys, thanks to a referral from a Twitter conversation. At the last minute Morgan decided he wanted to watch one of his favorite movies from when he was (really) little. Hollywood Video didn’t have it so we went to Blockbuster. Score! (Last minute choices may be the only down side of Netflix.)

Who knew Land Before Time would be the perfect ending to a mother-son date? In her last words, Little Foot’s mother took the time to teach a few important life lessons as well.

Have you been on a Mother-Son or Father-Daughter date? If so, tell me about it! What life lessons did your parents share with you (or do you wish they had shared with you)? What lessons are you intentionally sharing with your children?

You never know what might happen when you take the time to handwrite a note. The other day I wrote to Chris Brogan, thanking him for the impact he’s had on me at this phase of my business. I sincerely appreciate his willingness to share information, not to mention the fact that he’s a genius! I expected nothing in return. On Friday, Chris surprised me with a blog entry about the CultureSmith notecard and even included the above photo. Already, it’s generated some additional traffic to my website and helped me add a few more followers on Twitter.

St. Patrick’s Day Meeting
On March 18, 2002 I received a handwritten note that changed the course of my life. Just the day before, on St. Patrick’s Day, I was returning to Lynchburg from Dallas after presenting at a statewide conference for chamber of commerce professionals. My itinerary included a brief layover in Pittsburg.

It was there that I first noticed a tall man with two small children. When I say “noticed,” I mean because he was 6′5″ tall. I’m 5′11″. It’s not every day that I see men I have to look up to. I wasn’t really thinkin’ anything else. I mean, he had two small children with him, right?

On the flight to Lynchburg, said tall man and two small children were seated in the row in front of me. Come to find out, his son was four and daughter, 18 months old. I love kids, so I played peek-a-boo with the toddler and occasionally caught the eye of the four-year old. All three of them had beautiful blue eyes.

Baggage Claim Isn’t All Bad
When we arrived in Lynchburg, passengers from our very full flight gathered around baggage claim awaiting their luggage. And then there were three. We waited…and waited. No luggage.

I’ve never been accused of being shy. My extroverted personality and customer service training, paired with networking advice from Harvey Mackay’s books and my experience in the chamber industry compelled me to introduce myself. There was a drug rep and the tall man, Peter. He and I had a brief conversation:

“Thanks for playing with my kids,” he said.
I replied, “no problem. It made me miss my own. I can’t wait to see them.”
He said, “Are they with your husband?”
“Ex-husband,” I offered.
“Yeah, me too. It sucks doesn’t it?” was his reply. I nodded.

Shortly after that, we moved to the ticket counter and filled out the necessary paperwork so that hopefully, our luggage would be returned to us in a timely manner. I recognized the lady at the ticket counter as someone with whom I used to work at Belk, a family-owned department store. We chatted for a bit and I left to go get my babies (at the time Sweet Pea was 6 and Ninja Boy was 4) from my ex.

The next day a green bag similar to mine arrived at my office. The name on the luggage tag was - you guessed it - Peter. The last name started with an M. There was a phone number, so I took a chance. I called the number and left a message saying I had his luggage at my office. Before he had a chance to return my call, someone from the airline returned with my luggage and reclaimed Peter M’s bag.

The Note that Changed My Life
On the outside of my luggage was a green envelope with the logo of one of Lynchburg’s major employers and the words “Strictly Private.” Someone had my attention.

Evidently, Peter remembered my name and that my friend worked for the airline. He went back to his office, penned the note, went back to the airport and asked my friend if she could give the note to me along with my luggage. Thankfully, she did!

A few days later, Peter Smith and I met for coffee at a Givens Bookstore. He was in the middle of a tough divorce and I had been there, done that. We talked for what seemed like hours. We shared stories and began a great friendship. Who knew four years later, we would end up married? (Part Two coming soon.)

You Never Know
Rather than click “send” the next time you want to make an impression, why not get out a pen and a note card? In our very high tech society, a handwritten may just be the personal touch you need. Postage stamp or not, handwritten notes have the ability to go farther than you might think.

How did you feel the last time you received a handwritten note from someone? When was the last time you took the time to write a personal note? Was it effective? If so, how?

For nearly 20 years, the second Sunday in May has arrived, bringing with it mixed emotions. As I ponder the significance of tomorrow, and honoring mothers, somehow I feel the need to be less than Hallmark-esque and write about some of the difficulties that surface during this time each year. There’s the pain of infertility, the overwhelming stress of being a single mother, the challenges of admitting the relationship with mom is less than perfect and the sadness of realizing she’s gone. I’m sure there are more. Those are just my personal difficulties with Mother’s Day.

Infertility
My ex-husband and I tried for years, to no avail, to have children. I suspect there was a five-year period when every time I saw mothers with babies I was brought to tears, or nearly so. Mother’s Day was particularly difficult during this time, as were baby showers for friends and baby dedications at church. With every fiber of my being, I wanted to have children. Infertility made Mother’s Day a hard day! (Today I have four children, two by birth and two by marriage. For those struggling with infertility, my heart goes out to you.)

Single Mother
Said ex-husband and I separated in March 1998 when our daughter was two years old and our son was two weeks old. That Mother’s Day was more difficult than any of the previous years. The pain of going through a separation and divorce was harder than anything I’d experienced in life. I didn’t walk down the aisle thinking I would one day be a single mom. Mother’s Days that followed became less difficult (though Father’s Day became harder), as I grew into my role as single mother and my understanding that life is what you make it.

June Cleaver
Although my mom was not June Cleaver, I’m not sure I actually noticed until much later in life. Like many folks willing to be honest, I grew up in a dysfunctional family. It was my normal. Mom and Dad fought all the time. My dad was domineering and my mom often assumed the role of victim. (That’s not easy to type for the whole world to see.) Momma was not ever the attentive type. Looking back now, I can see that she didn’t know how to be emotionally intimate. (She wasn’t equipped and likely hadn’t seen it modeled.) I guess that’s why choosing Mother’s Day cards for her became harder the older I got. I typically chose generic or humorous cards rather than those that were effusive with praise.

Gone
My mother died in December 2006 after a long battle with pulmonary fibrosis and lung cancer. (My brother Terry and I spoke at her funeral. I cried through most of my part. I am an UGLY crier. Wasn’t even sure I could make it to the end at one point.) Just the other week I was looking through the Mother’s Day cards at Target, picking out cards for my mother-in-law, an older “like a mother” friend, girlfriends (one card in Spanish, though I only have a marginal idea what it said, but thought it would be fun to send), and a friend with no children. And there, in between the Girls 7-14 clothing and the card aisles, it hit me. I missed my mom. My eyes filled with tears. The lump in my throat that signals emotion was suddenly present.

Tomorrow will be a great day filled with love from my family and I’ll write about that. Today, I felt it important to share some thoughts on the more difficult side of Mother’s Day. I’m pretty sure there are others who know a bar or two of the Mother’s Day Blues.

Have you ever heard the Mother’s Day Blues? If so, what lyrics did you hear? What were/are your struggles with Mother’s Day?